


On the Verge

by betsytheoven



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Graduation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsytheoven/pseuds/betsytheoven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Graduation is never easy. Bitty can now attest to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Verge

**Author's Note:**

> I graduated from college in December and I wrote the first half of the fic sitting in my empty apartment. I wrote until my battery died, carried my backpack out to my car, locked the door, and left college. I think both Bitty and I won't handle graduating very well, but we will both try. 
> 
> The title is from Verge by Owl City & Aloe Blacc, my anthem for my graduation.
> 
> Thank you to the ever amazing [Sarah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/misandrywitch) for helping me edit this! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this!

“Hey!”

Bitty waved softly at the camera, sighing softly at the sad attempt at a smile that was reflected back at him from his camera.

“So, I graduated today.”

The sun had already begun its descent towards the horizon, but he figured he had a good few hours of sunlight left to get on the road out of Massachusetts towards Madison. Everything was packed up and loaded in Coach’s pickup. His whole life, wrapped, boxed, and loaded in a shuddering pickup in a matter of hours.

He glanced around his room, the barren walls with only Johnson’s pucks still remaining. There were tiny holes dotted across the walls, and patches of wall where his command hooks had taken the paint with them. His lights were wrapped in newspaper and loaded in the box labeled “Bedroom Bx. 2,” and his Beyonce and Nicki Minaj posters were carefully rolled and dropped into posters tubes, tucked securely in a taller box. The only things he had left to carry downstairs were his backpack filled with miscellaneous items, his laptop, and his still-charging phone.

“As you might have noticed, my whole room is packed up! Gone! It’s a lil’ miracle that we were able to get all my junk crammed in the back of my dad’s truck. We spent a good ten minutes eyeing all the packed boxes, Mama swore we would never get it all to fit and I would have to leave some of my closet at the Haus!”

Packing wasn’t fun—never seemed to be a fun thing, always took more outta you than you expected—and his Mama spent most of her time supervising and making little comments about Bitty needing to sort through all his things this summer before he started work.

A month before graduation, an email arrived from a startup in Boston that hired chefs to share recipes and tips. The offer was the dream job for a fresh graduate, and Bitty would be the website’s go-to chef for pies and pastries. The team had practically smothered him in congratulations and Bitty had called the next morning to graciously accept. The only caveat was that the job started on the first of the year, meaning Bitty had half a year to kill.

So he was moving back to Madison.

Mama couldn’t have been more thrilled, and Coach had made a few passing comments about Bitty coaching the local hockey team until he could find a “real job,” but Bitty could hardly think about a week at his old home without going stir-crazy. But he didn’t have the money to live away from his parents, and frankly, where would he go even if he did have the money?

Lardo had moved in with Shitty, Holster and Ransom had worked out shared custody of an apartment and Holster’s family’s guest house, and Jack’s apartment…                     

Jack’s apartment seemed to be a revolving door of hockey players, both active and retired. Most Skype calls with Jack began or ended with an excited wave from Jack’s teammate Cory, or a small smile from Mario Lumieux. He was always busy, being a great NHL player and a better teammate. Bitty would never try to intrude on that.

So he was Madison-bound.

But first, he had to say his goodbyes.

“Lord, I can’t even begin to tell y’all how hard these past few days have been. I had my birthday last week, and then more finals than any student should ever be forced to take. And then yesterday, I graduated.”

Graduation was anti-climactic. Everyone had warned him about it, but somehow he thought celebrating the end of his time at university and officially entering the adult world would have made him feel more than simply exhausted. He smiled and laughed at the speech given, and he ducked his head with a blush at the absolutely embarrassing cheer squad he, Ollie, and Wicks had, but at the end of the day he was the same ol’ boring Bitty, now with an expensive piece of paper tacked on. It was like birthdays, he supposed, where you were expected to be so different because a magical date had passed. He walked across the stage, took pictures, turned his tassel, high-fived Ollie and Wicks. He did it, he smiled through it, he graduated.

It wasn’t until after the ceremony that he actually smiled a genuine smile. He hugged Mama and Coach, and took all the pictures Mama asked of him. The flood of people kept pushing him away from where he could see Shitty and Jack standing, and he turned brighter than Samwell Crimson when Holster scooped him up from behind and carried him over to the rest of the team, offering apologies to the Bittles as he stole their son away.

Before his feet even hit the ground, Bitty was engulfed in hockey players and he had never felt so loved. Hugs were spread around and Bitty grinned and pretended Jack’s soft wink at him meant something more than a chirp. Then he saw His Frogs standing off to the side, kicking at the grass and he beamed as they all piled onto him.

“Congratulations Bitty!” Dex smiled into Bitty’s hair. The other two laughed, Chowder squeezing them all tighter together and that’s when it all started to hit him.

These were His Frogs. He had seen them on their first day on campus, had helped them through incredibly hard times, but had celebrated plenty of triumphs as well. And now they were there for his last day on campus. If he cried, well Chowder certainly wouldn’t tell.

Mama had wandered over a few minutes later and insisted Mr. Crappy and Jack Dear round up all the miscellaneous hockey players and pushed them together so they fit in her old digital camera frame. It wasn’t more than a few minutes after that before she shuffled Bitty towards the Haus, determined to get a move on.

So he rushed through the final packing, hurriedly stumbled downstairs with too-heavy boxes, and nearly crushed Jack’s toe at least twice.

He turned the camera off, after recording his last vlog as a Samwell student, and tried not to dwell too much on that fact. There were hours of driving ahead of him that would not be made easier by misty eyes.

He was leaning up against the wall, looking at the skeleton of his life, of who he had been for the past few years, and pulled his knees tighter to his chest.

A knock rapped against his door, and Jack slipped in.

“This is only going to make it harder.” He sighed and slid down the wall next to Bitty.

“I can’t believe it’s actually over. I’m never going to play hockey again, or take another test, or be able to excuse something because I’m a student. It’s just so… final.”

Jack nodded, examining his hands in his lap. “It is final. You don’t get to un-graduate—unless you didn’t pass your finals, so you’ve got a chance yet—“ Bitty shoved him lightly.

“It is final, but it’s not the end.”

Bitty nodded and kept up his staring contest with the wall.

It was quiet, or as quiet as the Haus could get on any given day. The silence between them stretched, but it was a soft silence. Like a warm reassuring blanket Bitty didn’t feel the need to remove himself from. Except.

“I’m scared.”

He could hear Jack’s breath catch.

“I’m scared that these next few months will be the hardest of my life. I’m scared of living with my family again, after being able to be myself here for so long. I’m scared of failing at being an adult. I’m scared that I won’t be… successful.” 

Of course Jack gets it, which might be the only reason Bitty wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing stream of words from escaping. Jack nodded, and Bitty picked at the loose string on his jeans. It was quiet, but then again, most of their best memories were.

“I can’t tell you it’s all going to be easy,” Jack said hesitantly, quietly, “But I can tell you that you’re going to survive it. If anyone can survive, it’s you, Bitty.”

He didn’t want to just survive, but it sounded weak and goodness knows Jack had been through a lot more than Bitty ever would, so he plastered on a smile and pulled himself up off the floor.

“You’re right, thanks Jack!” He glanced at his phone, deaf to the protesting noise Jack made. 

“Oh good lord, it’s already so late! Can you check up here, make sure I didn’t miss anything? I’m going to go do a sweep of the kitchen!”

He bolted, ran away, down the stairs, into the car, and down the street. It wasn’t until they had crossed the state line that Mama brought up graduation.

“Are you sad about graduating, Dicky?”

 He smiled softly at her from the driver’s seat, “I don’t know yet.”

Of course it was a lie. He wasn’t sad, but it might break his Mama’s heart if he said it out loud. He was heartbroken and scared but most of all he felt lost. He didn’t know who he was back home anymore. He wasn’t “Coach B’s kid” or “that fancy ice skater boy.” He was just Eric, the kid who graduated college with nothing but a piece of paper to show for it.

 

It wasn’t a boring drive by any means, but he was sure glad when they stopped at a gas station and Mama insisted they switch off. After running inside for the restroom and mandatory road trip snacks, Bitty slipped into the passenger’s seat. He had packed his charger in his fraying backpack along with a sweatshirt and his laptop and such, so he opened up his bag to pull out the charger to save his phone from its descent into the red. Sitting on top of everything in his bag was a pile of envelopes he had never seen before. His brow wrinkled as he pulled them out. Each envelope had his name written on it, in various forms and fonts. He could already tell who wrote most of them just by how they wrote his name.

His hands shook as he opened the one simply titled “Eric R. Bittle” in a tight scribble that he saw on countless boards and post-game reports.

 

_You and I both know that you had a hard time when you came into Samwell. I was hard on you as a coach because you had something in you from day 1 that you can never teach a player. Now I’m not saying I always treated you well, but you always proved me wrong and I can’t say I was ever sad about being wrong about you, Bittle._

 

He wasn’t crying, all right? He was just a mite tired after all the driving.

The next envelope he picked up had “BITS” sequined onto the envelope in Samwell maroon and white.

 

_Bits did you see my sequin job? Damn, Lardo taught me well. You know who else taught me well? You, Bitty. I look at you and see one of the strongest men I have ever gotten to meet and damn if I will ever stop being inspired by you. You don’t believe in yourself enough, but hey that’s what I’m here for. You’ll be in Boston soon and then you’ll never be rid of me. I can’t wait to live near you again, it’ll be like coming home._

 

His Mama was giving him strange looks, but Bitty couldn’t stop himself from opening envelope after envelope, the emotions just building up and pouring over.

 

 _I wish I had been around for you captaining the team to the Frozen Four. You were a cool Frog who turned out to be one of the best friends I have ever had. I know I haven’t been around as much because of med school, but you are always welcome to come crash at my apartment if it gets to be too much down there, ok? You’re one of the best players SMH has ever seen but you’re also one of the most genuine dudes I have ever met. I am expecting salty texts about all the stupid shit that goes down when you get home, and as soon as you move out to Boston, we are grabbing coffee and I will show you this fancy bakery place I found that I_ _know_ _hope you like._

 

The next envelope also said “Bits,” but it was in Lardo’s scrawl. Inside was a painting of the Haus kitchen in the morning, with light streaming through the window towards the well-worn table. You would never know by looking at it that painting wasn’t Lardo’s chosen medium of study at Samwell. On the back she had written a short note:

 

_This place will always hold my best memories at Samwell. You were the light in that kitchen, Bits, but also in our lives. Now you get to shine somewhere else and I am so lucky I get to see you shine._

_P.S. you’d better hang this on your fridge in your new apartment. I’ll win 10 bucks._  

 

He was careful to place that one even more softly back into it’s envelope and the next envelope he picked up said “Eric Bittle” in what was unmistakably Jack’s handwriting. He put it aside.

He picked up the envelope with “BITTY!” stretched across the front, and smiled to himself as he opened Chowder’s letter.

 

_I need to tell you thank you, Bitty. If anyone has defined my college career, it has been you. I came to Samwell thinking that I would live the stories my parents had told me for years, or that I would have the time of my life playing with The Jack Zimmermann. No one ever told me that I would meet you, or that you would help me live with some of the worst moments in my life. I guess I never told you, but I was bullied a lot in high school and, well, I didn’t like myself for a long time. But you let me sit in the kitchen for hours talking about Farmer or the Sharks game that I know you didn’t care about, but you never once ignored me or told me to wait while someone else said something more important and I... I want you to know how much that meant to me. I don’t know where I will be in a year or two, but I do know that a lot of the reason I am there is because of you, Bitty. You were a great captain, of course! But you were an even better friend and quite possibly the best thing to happen to me at Samwell (don’t worry, Farmer is a very very close second!!)._

 

In the hour or so since they had left that gas station, Bitty had teared up more times than he had his whole time at Samwell. He still hadn’t opened Jack’s letter when he slid all of the envelopes back into his backpack and pulled out his earphones to play some music and nap.

“Everything ok?” Mama asked quietly, having resolutely ignored his emotional rollercoaster over each letter. Bitty nodded. He curled into the hard plastic of the car door, seat belt cradled between his ear and shoulder, and nodded off.

When they arrived at the motel that night, both Bittles were exhausted and did nothing but wash up and fall onto the musty beds. He still hadn’t opened Jack’s letter when he fell asleep.

 

Never a morning person, Bitty slid into the passenger’s seat while Mama took the first leg of the drive, sun still sitting just below the horizon when they pulled away from the motel. He napped against the cold window for a few hours and when they made their first stop for gas of the morning, Bitty filled up a trucker-sized cup of semi-palatable coffee and softly slid into the driver’s seat so his mother would take the passenger’s seat. He hooked his phone up to the car and played his music softly while she napped for the next few hours. He spent his driving hours focused on what he needed to do once they got home, instead of thinking about the overly kind things his friends had written down and shoved in his bag. He didn’t think about Jack or his letter when he pulled into a gas station, pretending he never had to open it.

They arrived home in the early evening, Coach sitting on the front porch with the radio yelling about the baseball game. He cracked his back as he stretched out of his chair and plodded over to the car to help Mama out of the truck.

“What’s the score, Coach?”

His loud, resigned sigh was clue enough, but he still said, “It’s an embarrassment, Dicky. You don’t want to know.”

Bitty and Coach unloaded the car into the garage while Mama whipped up some quick dinner for everyone. She laughed at Bitty’s overly sweaty state when they came inside, saying he’ll need to get readjusted to Georgia’s “lovely weather” again. He pulled on a tight grin, wishing he didn’t have to.

  

Four days. He made it four days before he left the house and drove until he mustered enough courage to hit the green button on his phone.

 “Hey.”

“Hi.”

His voice sounded so soft, so lost and hurt and he felt just this shade of ridiculous for calling Jack simply because he didn’t like being at home.

There was some rustling sounds on the other end, and a distant yell of “Is that Bitty? Bitty!” that sounded like Cory but Jack talked too soon for Bitty to figure it out.

“Did you get home ok?” 

Bitty hummed, “Yeah, yeah I did.” He didn’t say that he still hadn’t opened Jack’s letter. 

“Did you find the letters?” He sounded detached, like a captain checking in after a game. Bitty was glad he hadn’t opened his letter.

“Yeah, I’m just waiting to open them until I’m not so sad about all this! Can’t be crying all over the place, y’know?” He laughed stiffly and Jack was quiet for a moment.

“You can let yourself cry, you know. I--I know it sounds a bit hypocritical coming from me, but you never let yourself be sad.”

He snorted and pulled the phone a bit away from his ear to double check that yes, he had called Jack.

“Was that you giving me advice about being open, Mr. Zimmermann?” Bitty smiled easily this time and Jack laughed on the other end of the line and his smile grew.

“Yeah yeah, chirp me all you want Bitty, you know I’m right.”

They sit in pleasant silence for a bit, chatter filling in Jack’s end of the line and occasional cars rumbling past filling Bitty’s end.

“Did you know I still hate calling my apartment here home? I have a five-year contract and Shitty calls it my home but I still hesitate every time I refer to it.”

Bitty raised his eyebrows and softly muttered, “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

With a sigh, Bitty quietly told Jack about how the last four days had been a special brand of hell despite nothing bad or even significant happening. He just felt like he was too big for his skin and he was constantly fighting a steady stream of Go go go go. _Leave._

Jack didn’t say anything for a long time. Bitty almost thought he had hung up, but some of his teammates yelled in the background and he sighed into the phone.

“Go read my letter.”

Bitty sucked in a breath and barely got out a gentle “Um” before Jack quickly said, “Look, you don’t have to call me after you read it or anything but... I’m better at writing. Please?”

And Bitty was strong about a lot of things, but Jack had never been one of them. After Jack hung up, he drove around for another hour or so before landing back home, pulling Jack’s letter out of his desk drawer. He carefully opened the sealed envelope and pulled out a stack of photos with a small piece of paper tucked behind them.

Shuffling through them, he found a lot of him in the Haus kitchen, one at the rink before their final game during his sophomore year. A few photos from the Thanksgiving break trip they had all taken up to Providence during Bitty’s junior year, and one from when Jack came to visit Bitty at camp last summer. The last photo in the stack was from graduation. Jack had managed to take a photo of Bitty sitting at the kitchen table in his cap and gown, smiling brighter than he felt that day. He has no idea what was being said, but he was laughing and was surrounded by his favorite people in the world. There were pie crumbs all over the table and Shitty was lying on the counter behind Bitty. Lardo had her head propped up on her fist and was trying to hide a grin, while Holster clutched at his stomach, doubled over from laughter. They all looked so happy, so warm.

The piece of paper couldn’t really be called a letter for how short it was. Just a few sentences strung together, a few lines inked on a page, tucked behind memories and moments of happiness and love. Bitty set it down a few times and picked it back up every time, just to make sure he read it right.

 

_Thank you for helping me learn to save myself._

 

He didn’t go to Samwell to make an impact. College was expected of him, and he got to play hockey while learning more and getting a degree. At the end of the day, he would have sworn up and down that Samwell and all the people he had been so lucky to meet had made the biggest impact on him. Never would he have dreamed that he would have made an impact on others.  

He never thought he would find someone who could make him laugh through tears.

He never thought he would find Jack.

 

_Providence is always yours to call home, if you want it._

 

Bitty wasn’t sure of anything just yet. Boston was his soon-to-be home for now, but his heart settled at the idea that he was welcome elsewhere. Ok, and maybe his heart settled a bit at the idea that he was welcome with Jack. 

Sitting in his childhood bedroom, Bitty realized he was in a limbo of sorts. He was mired in the hauntings of his past, while trying to believe in this ethereal future, when his heart only wanted to cling to his friends and the little family he built at Samwell. Everything seemed daunting and utterly terrifying but he had no choice but to push through it at this point.

He was out of college but not out of love. It seemed like everything had to change when he walked across that stage. In many ways, things did change--he moved out of the Haus, moved back home, and no longer needed to take classes or play hockey. But the important things, the things that really mattered to Bitty were still the same-- his friends still had his back, he still was trying to sort out whatever was going on between him and Jack, and he still felt more comfortable in who he was than he did in high school. With a long deep breath, he glanced down at the paper once more before tucking it behind the photos.

  
_You can do this._

**Author's Note:**

> Please drop by and say hi over on [my tumblr](http://betsytheoven.tumblr.com/) !
> 
> And if for some reason you felt kudos weren't enough, [my ko-fi page is now up & running!](ko-fi.com/kimske)


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